


Obsession

by kethni



Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 11:24:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13716690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni
Summary: ‘I’m stalking you.’‘Oh.’ She watched him park the car. ‘I’ve been stalking you too.’





	Obsession

She knew him by reputation. Washington D.C. was a sewer of lewdness and corruption. To have a reputation that was based on a lack of impropriety and an excess of competence was impressive in itself. The fact that they considered competence as something one _could_ have in excess was proof in itself of their general idiocy.

She didn’t know him by sight. Sue rarely read the kind of publications that profiled staffers, but it wouldn’t have mattered if she did. Kent Davison declined to be interviewed and refused permission for his picture to be used in unofficial profiles.

She first saw him when he came to see the VP. He was taller than average and rangy. His grooming was both clearly expensive and oddly old-fashioned, but his clothing was stylish and well-tailored in a low-key way. He wasn’t at all what she would have expected.

Sue looked up as his shadow fell across her. She saw him give her a brief look, not lecherous by any means, but thoughtful and interested. That was unusual. Sue was _not_ the kind of staffer who considered her sexuality as a tool to gain advancement. She dressed smartly and in a manner that did not indicate sexual availability. Of course, dress had little or nothing to do with whether or not a certain type of man would inappropriately pursue her sexually. Sue relied on an acerbic manner, with the underlying suggestion of possible violence, to dissuade that sort of man. She took the fact that she had not been harassed or assaulted as a personal victory.

She didn’t expect men whom she worked with, men she largely found repulsive, to be interested in her. Kent didn't repulse her, nonetheless it was a surprise that he was interested in her.

Sue didn’t like surprises. 

_That man is obsessed with me._

He stammered when he tried to explain his polls to her. His hands shook when he turned to the flipchart to explain his thoughts more clearly.

He didn’t touch her hair.

She saw him looking at it.

She saw him look at her mouth.

He flushed when he realised that she’d seen his look.

He fell over himself avoiding looking at her.

When he retreated to his laptop, Sue sent a few texts to carefully selected recipients.

Selina had made her antagonism to Kent blindingly clear. Yet for all that aggression, it seemed surprisingly general, rather than personal. She had found his very existence offensive.

Sue could not afford such a slap dash approach to antipathy. If she actively loathed every man who annoyed her, then she would never get any work done.

Selina was quite happy to apply her loathing indiscriminately. Sue believed in crafting it for the truly deserving.

Sue looked up from her tablet and over to Kent. He was intently staring at his laptop. That wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was that he had his legs folded up underneath him. She hadn’t noticed before how long they were. How limber he was.

He was typing. Slim fingers dancing across the keys, eyes narrowed, and the tip of his tongue just touching his upper lip.

Sue’s cell chimed. She read the message and raised an eyebrow. Dustin in personnel was aware that he had been in her bad books of late and was clearly attempting to earn his way out of them.  

So. Kent was fifty-five. Hmm. Although he had turned grey, Sue had imagined that he was younger. He carried himself with an energy and lightness that she would have ascribed to a man who was ten or fifteen years younger. Sue’s father was sixty, but seemed at least twenty years older than Kent.

‘Sue, do you have the sector 22 figures?’ he asked.

She shoved her phone into her pocket and flipped through the records. ‘They’re here, do you want them?’

As she spread the reports across the desk, he leaned over her to look at them. Sue looked up. He was in his shirtsleeves. His shirt was a soft ecru colour, beautifully tailored, and had the faint warm scent of fresh laundry. His top button was undone, just showing a few dark hairs at the throat, and the knot of his silk tie had been loosened.

‘Have you cross-referenced this?’ he asked.

Sue set her shoulders. ‘With the fourth quadrant data,’ she said quickly.

‘Hmm.’ Kent narrowed his eyes.

She followed his gaze. ‘There seems to be some kind of glitch.’

He tapped a finger on the report and turned his head to address the analyst two desks away. ‘Cal, have you cleansed fourth quadrant data for self-selection bias?’

Sue clasped her hands together as Kent took the reports and wandered off to Cal.

Kent reached around to scratch the small of his back. It was _blatantly_ an attempt to draw attention to his ass.

The man was clearly obsessed with her.

***

Sue tucked herself in the corner of the dining room to read the rest of Dustin’s text. There wasn’t much. Kent hadn’t worked in the West Wing long enough to have amassed much in his personnel file. His security file, on the other hand, would probably have a huge amount on data. Every place of employment would have been assessed, each relationship would have been investigated, and all public proclamations studied and pored over. Sue’s security clearance had been gruelling. For someone of his age there would be so much more to detail and assess.

Sue sipped her soup. Date and place of birth. Education. Hmm. MIT was to be expected. The focus on mathematics was entirely appropriate, but musicology?

Amy’s voice rang out across the room. She was, of course, on her cell. If the day came when it was possible to graft a cell phone into the human body, Amy would be at the head of the queue.

She marched across the room straight to Sue, juggling a plate, a bottle of water, a boxed fruit salad, and, of course, her cell.

‘…make that not happen,’ Amy said, putting her phone away and sitting down. ‘I want to go one day without life punching me in the tits.’

‘Have you considered a vacation?’ Sue suggested.

Amy snorted. ‘Haven’t had one in five years and I’m not gonna start now.’ She shovelled a forkful of food into her mouth.

Sue sipped her soup.

Amy nodded at Sue’s cell. ‘Anything important?’

‘No. Merely some data for Mr Davison.’ Sue’s mouth twitched. ‘So much data.’

Amy shrugged. ‘But he’s competent, he’s not an asshole, and he doesn’t grab tits or ass. Around here that’s practically unheard of.’

Sue leaned forward. ‘He asked me if I’d changed my hair.’

‘Had you?’

‘Yes. I told him that I’d had an extremely painful treatment and he told me that it looked like was working for me.’ Sue sat back, as if having clinched a compelling argument.

Amy chewed her food. ‘Kent complimented you? That’s weird.’

‘I don’t see why. I’m extremely attractive,’ Sue said. ‘In the past he has told me that he admires my competence. That was also deserved.’

Amy nodded. ‘Yeah, Kent would get turned on by that.’ She gave Sue a look. ‘He’s not… being weird.’

‘Yes,’ Sue said. ‘He is frequently weird.’

‘He is,’ Amy said. ‘But you know… weird in a different way. Weird in a creepy way.’

Sue thought about it. ‘Ah. No. He is not sexually harassing me.’

‘Although how would any of us know,’ Amy said. She tapped her foot. ‘What even would be his idea of sex?’

‘Selina probably knows,’ Sue said.

Amy pulled a face. ‘Has Mike been spinning you that line about them fucking?’

Sue clenched her jaw. ‘He has not.’

‘He thinks because she hates him that there must be some sexual tension or some fucking thing,’ Amy said.

Sue relaxed slightly. ‘Mike has an alarming view of relationships.’

‘Mike’s a fucking idiot,’ Amy said.

***

He had changed gyms. Sue knew this because Dan had stomped around the bullpen complaining about it. That tracking Kent down to his gym was _at best_ inappropriate didn’t seem to have occurred to Dan. If Kent had wished to, he could have complained to Selina. Instead he had chosen to find somewhere else to exercise. That was interesting. It suggested a desire to avoid confrontation. A desire that she had not noticed in his professional demeanour.

Dan didn’t pursue his attempt to get close to Kent. That was probably wise. It seemed clear that Kent had little or no time for him.

There were lots of gyms in D. C. If Sue had cared enough she might have wondered quite how Dan had tracked down that particular one. But she didn’t care. Why would she? Kent was nothing to her.

She wasn’t thinking of him as she went to the gym. She saw his car in the parking structure. He drove a small, sporty convertible. It was dark blue. Almost black. It looked like a shark, or a tiger. Sleek. She hadn’t seen his car before; his parking privileges were far above her own.

She saw him park his car, take out a sports bag, and stroll into the gym. He was wearing black sweats and gleaming white training shoes. The sweats hung low on his hips, and, as he moved the hand up to his shoulder, his hoodie jacket rode up, revealing a slice of pale blue t-shirt and a sliver of pale skin.

Sue followed at a distance. Her class was women only. That was more of a relief now than ever. She did not want to deal with being looked at when she was sweating and writhing around. Least of all she wanted to deal with him staring at her and obsessing about her. If he was going to do that, then she wanted to look good while he did it.

Inside the building, he turned right to the courts and the pools, and then left to the Pilates and Yoga studios.

Sue huffed. She _supposed_ that Pilates was acceptable, but Yoga was the stuff or bored housewives and the sort of men who drank herbal tea and wore sandals.

As she practised her round house punches, and knee thrusts, she thought about the way Kent’s sweats hung on him. At work he wore well-tailored suits that were, she thought, about midrange. Much nicer than the rags that Mike wore, better fitting than Gary’s, and not expensive or flashy as Dan’s.

His sweats were off-the-rack. From a distance, they looked the right length, but a little broad. Perhaps that wasn’t too surprising. He was a slim man. He didn’t have the middle-aged pot belly that seemed to afflict so many of his contemporaries. So many that Sue had long suspected it was simply another mildly embarrassing manifestation of male aging, like ear hair and falling testosterone levels.

Sue had never gone through the “older man” phase that she had observed her friends and classmates experience. Being attracted to a man old enough to be your father, let alone a string of such men, smacked of immaturity. That some men were attracted to women so much younger was deeply off-putting. One of the things she most disliked about working at the Eisenhower building was being around so many old men who treated wives like clothes, throwing them aside when the fashion changed.

In the shower, she thought about going to Mike’s birthday party. It would be dull, but there would be plenty of food and alcohol. However, she was between boyfriends. She disliked going to events without a man. It was like going out without your makeup. It made you look unfinished.

THIS IS NOT A DRILL. EVACUATE THE BUILDING. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

Sue’s eyes snapped open as the fire alarm rang out. A siren clanging while a pre-recorded voice screamed announcements.

Sue leapt out of the cubicle, wrapping the towel around her, shoving her feet into her training shoes, and bundling up her belongings. She grabbed her bag, and followed the dozen or so other women into the corridor.

People were pushing along the corridor, towards the main entrance.

No. There was a fire exit around the corner. Sue broke off from the mass of people and ran down the corridor. Someone was already there. A man by himself. He was wearing black boxers, a blue t-shirt, training shoes, and a black hoodie.

As Sue ran down towards him, he swung the fire escape door open, and glanced back at her.

It was Kent. Of course it was.

***

Kent silently offered Sue his hoodie.

‘Thank you,’ she mumbled.

He put it around her shoulders.

They were in the crowd of people watching the fire fighters entering the gym. Kent had been about to get into the shower when the alarm rang, and she was uncomfortably aware of the faint smell of fresh perspiration rising from his warm skin.

She’d caught him looking at her, three times, very quickly. Nothing overt or aggressive. But she was bare-faced, soaking wet, and worst of all, she wasn’t wearing a bra. She had to keep hitching up the towel.

‘Did you drive?’

Sue blinked. ‘What?’

‘Did you drive here?’ he asked.

‘No. I walked,’ she said. Only he would think this was a time for small talk.

‘I drove,’ he said. ‘That’s my car over there. I could drive you home.’

‘Oh.’ She had her belongings, she just had no opportunity to put them on. ‘Your sweatpants are in there,’ she said.

‘I’ll get them tomorrow,’ he said. ‘You must be...’ He paused. ‘I’m cold and I certainly not comfortable stood here in my underwear. I presume that you’re also uncomfortable.’

Sue tugged her towel up. She knew it made her breasts rise and press against the fabric. She knew Kent was struggling not to look.

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I would like to go home.

***

‘I’m going to ruin your car seat,’ Sue said.

They were leather, she could smell the material as soon as she opened the door.

She was still soaking wet. This wasn’t going to work.

‘A moment.’

She followed Kent to the back of the car. He popped the trunk and pulled out a couple of blankets. As he closed the door, she saw chains and a motorcycle helmet.

Her carefully put the blankets on the seat and she slid in. She was slightly disappointed. There was something faintly erotic about leather, about leather against bare skin. There was nothing remotely erotic about the dull comfort of wool against skin.

Kent started the car, and pulled out of the car park.

The towel had ridden up to Sue’s thighs. It didn’t show any more leg than a mini- dress, but she felt exposed. Naked. It was easy to imagine him dropping his hand from the steering wheel to her knee, sliding it to her thigh, and perhaps even further. Long, straight fingers against her skin. Coolly possessive.

‘You’ll have to direct me,’ he said.

‘What?’

‘Right or left.’

‘Left.’

He glanced at her. ‘You seem somewhat distracted.’

‘I’m almost naked in a car with a man I barely know,’ she said. ‘Why would I be distracted?’

He reddened. ‘Do you barely know me? I thought we got on quite well.’

Sue adjusted the towel. ‘We do. I only meant on a personal level,’ she said.

‘Ah.’ He licked his lips. ‘I apologise for making you uneasy. I appreciate that this must be an uncomfortable situation.’

She looked across at him. ‘Why do you keep chains and blankets in your car?’

‘In case of severe weather.’ He smiled slightly. ‘Did you think I was a serial killer?’

‘It crossed my mind.’

‘Then why did you get in the car?’ he asked, perplexed.

‘I was very... uncomfortable,’ she said. ‘And I didn’t actually believe you were going to kill me.’

Kent nodded. ‘Too many people saw you get in the car.’

‘Exactly.’

He smiled a little.

She smiled a little.

‘How long have you been going to that gym?’ she asked.

‘A couple weeks. I needed to find a new one and I thought if you went there then the facilities and service must be of a high quality.’

Sue raised an eyebrow. ‘You knew it was my gym?’

‘Yes.’ Kent turned onto her street.

‘How?’

‘Gary told me,’ he said. ‘I’m stalking you.’

‘Oh.’ She watched him park the car. ‘I’ve been stalking you too.’

Kent nodded. ‘I know. Dustin in HR snitched on you.’

‘Oh,’ Sue said.

Kent turned to her. ‘If I get the other blanket out of the trunk, maybe you could get dressed on the backseat.’

‘You want me naked on your seat?’

He tilted his head. ‘A lot of your neighbours are around. I thought you might prefer to avoid walking past them in a towel.’

Sue looked out through the windows. Several of her neighbours were gardening.

‘Very well,’ she said.

Kent went to fetch the other blanket. Sue wriggled through to the backseat, taking the blankets with her. She hadn’t been on the backseat of a man’s car for years. This was hardly the circumstance under which she would have considered doing it again.

Kent opened the door. ‘Perhaps I can hold this up as a curtain for you.’

‘Don’t look,’ she said.

‘I won’t.’

He held up the blanket.

‘You’ve been struggling not to look at me,’ she said, trying to dry her legs.

She heard him give a small sigh.

‘Doesn’t that suggest an awareness that looking would be inappropriate?’

‘I didn’t say that I didn’t appreciate it.’ She wriggled into her panties and jeans.

‘I’m not the only one who looks at things they shouldn’t,’ he said.

Sue pulled on her bra. ‘Meaning what?’

‘Meaning my legs are not designed to be stared at, Miss Wilson,’ he said sadly.  

Sue pulled back the blanket. ‘I do not stare at your legs!’

He was smirking. ‘You do,’ he said. ‘Also, are you aware that you haven’t put your blouse on?’

She scowled at him and pulled back behind the blanket. She pulled on her blouse and her training shoes, before tying back her hair.

‘I’m done,’ she said, gathering up the blankets.

He offered her his hand and helped her out of the car.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

He was shivering. She saw goose bumps on his arms.

‘Would you like to come in?’ she asked. ‘For a coffee and something to eat.’

‘Yes, please,’ he said.

‘Don’t serial kill me,’ she said.

‘Scout’s honour.’

He followed her up the path. She tried to remember if she had left the room in a tidy state. She had a reputation to upkeep.

Sue put her shoes on the rack and her jacket on the hook. She turned to Kent and gave him a thoughtful look.

‘I might be able to lend you some jeans,’ she said. ‘Ryan was about your height.’

‘You keep trophies from your former lovers?’ Kent asked.

‘It’s a petty man who asks for the return of tokens of affection.’

Kent was looking over at the artwork above her fireplace. ‘A pair of jeans are a token of affection?’

‘They looked better on me,’ she said heading for the stairs.

‘He’s not buried in the garden, is he?’

‘That’s my secret,’ she said, letting the door swing shut behind her.

In the guest bedroom she opened up the closet. She scooped up the jeans, and a t-shirt, and a bath towel, and went downstairs.

Kent was looking at her photographs on the wall.

‘Are you finished looking at my personal belongings?’ she asked.

‘A moment,’ he said.

‘Stop looking at my photographs,’ Sue said.

He turned to look at it her. ‘I’m curious why you would put them up if they’re too personal for people to look at.’

‘They’re not too personal for “people.” They too personal for you.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘I’m not a person?’

‘Barely.’ She handed him the clothes and the towel. ‘The shower is upstairs, first on the left. You should shower.’

‘Have I mentioned that I find your open aggression quite invigorating?’

Sue’s lips tugged as she tried not to smile. ‘No. Try to contain yourself.’ She watched him going upstairs, and then went to see what she could make quickly for dinner. After getting out chicken and vegetables, and putting on the oven to pre-heat, she brushed off her hands. Then she went upstairs, listening for the sound of rushing water.

The bathroom door didn’t lock. Generally, Sue used a heavy doorstop propped against the door, but she hadn’t told Kent about that.

She pushed open the bathroom door, licked her lips, and slipped into the bathroom. Kent was in the shower. He hadn’t pulled the shower curtain across. He had his back to Sue.

Suds flowed down his back, scudding over his waist, and sliding down his long legs. Water poured through his hair and down his body. She noticed that his hair lapped his collar bone. His back was smooth, with a couple of scars above his coccyx.

His hands rose to wipe water away from his face as he turned to look at her. Water ran rivers through his chest hair, following the fine line to his belly, and then down to the thatch of pubic hair.

He didn’t say anything. Just watched Sue, watching him.

She hadn’t realised how very slim he was. The body of a runner, perhaps, or a swimmer. He had a few scattered freckles along the blade of his right hip.

‘You’re supposed to be washing,’ Sue said.

‘You’re supposed to be letting me.’

‘I’m not stopping you.’

His eyes narrowed fractionally for a moment. The tiny muscles flexing minutely. Then he tipped shower gel into his palm, lathered it, and smeared it across his chest, his belly, and into his crotch. He ran his fingers through his hair. He slowly rubbed his thighs, and then his fingers moved to his penis.

Sue looked up. Into his eyes. He was looking right at her. Looking into her eyes.

Her landline began to ring.

‘Shit,’ she said.

‘Miss Wilson, I’m shocked,’ he murmured.

She opened the bathroom door. ‘I’m making dinner. When you’re ready come downstairs and wait in the living room.’

‘Yes. Okay.’

***

Sue put the phone on speaker while she prepared the meal.

‘... not to scare this one off,’ her mother said.

‘I have no idea what you mean,’ Sue said, chopping vegetables.

‘Susan, you know that men don’t respond well to your... you. They start off thinking that you’re charmingly frank, or passionate, or god knows what –’

‘I’m tired of this conversation, mom.’

‘I’m tired of you getting hurt and angry when you send your latest lover running for the hills.’

See pursed her lips. ‘He’s not the latest of anything. He’s just a colleague.’

‘Bullshit,’ her mother said. ‘I know you, Susan. Every other word out of your mouth is about this man.’

‘I need to go,’ Sue said sharply. ‘I’ll talk you on Wednesday.’

‘Just try to be a little less... you.’

‘Goodbye, Mother,’ Sue said, thumbing off the phone.

Every other word? Nonsense. Why would she talk about Kent? Perhaps she’d mentioned his name once, in passing. Certainly nothing more than that.

She heard the stairs creaking, and then the living room door open. She tipped the vegetables into the pot and then opened the door a crack to see what Kent was doing.

The jeans were a fraction long but hugged him tightly around his butt and thighs. The t-shirt was a touch tight and had a V-neck which showed a little chest hair.

Sue watched him examining her photographs and then her books. He ran his fingers along the spines, reading the titles, and occasionally taking down one to look at it more closely. She had noticed before that he had a lightness of touch, that while many men grabbed objects roughly, Kent had the delicacy of a surgeon.

Sue walked to the pantry and rifled through for the jar of sauce. She felt the movement of air, rather than heard the door open, and then the very slight scrape of his heel on the wood flooring.

‘You’re supposed to be waiting in the living room,’ she said, not turning around.

‘I ran out of things you didn’t want me to look at.’

She glanced over her shoulder. He was leaning against the table, watching her.

‘Is that so?’

He shrugged. ‘In the living room. I could go upstairs if you like. I’m sure there are plenty of things up there you don’t want me to look at.’

She gave him a look. ‘No.’

He smiled slightly and folded his arms. ‘Then I suppose I’ll stay here then.’

‘I don’t know why. There’s nothing to see.’

‘There’s you,’ he said mildly. ‘It’s warm. It smells nice.’

‘That’s probably the spices.’

‘Perhaps.’

Sue opened the jar of sauce and poured it into the pan.

‘I thought I heard voices before,’ Kent said.

Sue waved her hand. ‘My mother called. I put her on speaker while I started dinner.’

‘Ah.’

Sue pushed back her hair. ‘She’s elderly. Set in her ways. She doesn’t understand modern female behaviour.’

‘I’m not sure that I do,’ he said. ‘Or anyone’s behaviour come to that.’

She pursed her lips. ‘You’re close to your mother.’

‘I am very lucky to still have her,’ he said. ‘That’s not an opinion that seems to garner much approval, but I’m not going to lie about it.’

Sue leaned back against the counter. ‘I’m not going to pretend I disapprove of it.’

‘I’m glad.’ His eyes slipped down her body, before returning to her face.

‘I’m wearing jeans and a blouse,’ she said.

‘I see that.’

‘Why are you looking at me like I’m wearing... a leather catsuit or similar?’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Do you have a leather catsuit?’

Sue turned back to the stove. ‘Are you harassing me, Mr Davison?’

‘I hope not,’ he said. ‘Are you taunting me, Miss Wilson?’

‘I hope so,’ she said. ‘You didn’t answer me;

‘I like looking at you.’ Kent tilted his head. ‘Especially when you’re working. You’re graceful.’

Sue glanced at him. ‘I took ballet for five years. Laugh and I will cut you from belly to throat.’

He frowned. ‘Why would I laugh?’

Sue scanned his face for signs of amusement but saw none. ‘There is a perception that ballet is a fluffy, cutesy pursuit. I am neither. Hence amusement.’

Kent thought about it. ‘I have always understood ballet to be extremely demanding physically. Ballet dancers are athletes. Suggesting the costumes bely that is akin to suggesting the sequins on figure skaters’ costumes mean they are not highly trained competitors.’

‘People do precisely that,’ Sue said.

‘Hmm.’ He scratched his forehead. ‘A certain amount of misogyny perhaps?’

‘Or homophobia,’ Sue suggested. ‘Perhaps both.’

Kent nodded. ‘Why did you stop?’

‘Stop?’

‘Taking ballet,’ he said.

‘Puberty,’ she did. ‘Breasts and ballet are a poor combination.’

He nodded. ‘Nonetheless, I can imagine you benefitted from it.’

Sue narrowed her eyes. ‘From breasts?’

‘From ballet.’ He shrugged. ‘We had a coach who insisted all the team take dance once a week. To improve coordination and similar.’

Sue opened the refrigerator. ‘Did you take ballet?’

He shook his head. ‘Not recommended at that age. Too taxing. We took a few different styles. Alas I was not gifted at the discipline. There were more than a few squashed toes.’

Sue smiled slightly. ‘I don’t imagine I would be as successful playing football as doing ballet.’

Kent returned her smile. ‘I’m sure you would look charming in a football uniform.’

‘Better than you in a tutu,’ she said tartly.

‘You haven’t seen me in a tutu.’

Sue handed him a glass of white wine. ‘The night is young.’

***

They sat at the table to eat. This was a high intensity situation. Interest was a delicate bloom. Slurping, audible chewing, and messy eating could crush it in an instant. Then there was Kent’s beard. That seemed tailor-made to make neat eating troublesome.

He was careful. That wasn’t surprising. He was quiet. That was pleasing. When he spoke he either swallowed first or, if she asked him a question, covered his mouth. Yes, he was quite agreeably passing the eating test.

‘More wine?’ she asked.

He shook his head. ‘Best not to when I’m driving, thank you.’

‘Of course.’

It wasn’t a leading comment. He wasn’t angling for her to ask him stay.

That was just a tiny bit disappointing. She was tempted to ask him, but that would give him the power to say no, and that was intolerable.

Kent neatly put his knife and fork on his plate and sat back in his chair. ‘That was very nice. Thank you.’

‘Do you cook?’ she asked.

‘I do. I tend to stick to Asian-inspired dishes.’

Sue shrugged. ‘Next time you can cook.’

He scanned her face. ‘Next time I drive you home in a towel or...’

‘You’re being facetious.’

‘I’m attempting to gather all the data. I don’t wish to misinterpret your meaning or overestimate your interest,’ he said. He waggled his hand. ‘I suspect you would appreciate neither.’

Sue played with her fork. ‘You said you’d been stalking me.’

‘You said it first.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘That’s not the point.’

‘Okay,’ Kent said. ‘Yes.’

‘And I’ve been stalking you,’ she said.

He tilted his head. ‘You snuck into the bathroom when I was showering.’

‘It’s my bathroom,’ she said.

‘So if the positions were reversed, and you were showering in my bathroom, I could just walk in?’ Kent asked.

‘You didn’t object. I think you enjoyed it.’

He rested his hand on the table top. ‘That’s not the issue.’

Sue sipped her wine. ‘Would you like you to do that?’

‘Watch you shower?’ he asked. His pupils were dilated and there was a slight flush to his skin.

‘Yes.’

‘I would like that very much.’ He licked his lips. ‘With your permission. I can’t get away with sneaking into bathrooms to stare at beautiful women.’

Sue ignored “beautiful” and “women.” Both had too much baggage.

‘But you wouldn’t be able to touch me,’ she said. ‘Wouldn’t that be frustrating?’

He shrugged. ‘I can’t touch you now.’

Sue ran her thumb around her glass. ‘Do you want to touch me?’

‘Yes, a great deal,’ he said.

Sue crossed her legs. ‘How would you like to touch me?’

Kent ran his fingertips along the edge of his plate. ‘I’d like to kneel at your feet and kiss your ankles, calves, knees, and thighs. I’d like to do it slowly, and softly. Looking up at you. Watching you enjoy it.’

Sue raised an eyebrow. ‘Would you stop at my thighs?’

He smiled. ‘No.’

Sue sipped her wine. ‘Would I be doing something, or am I a purely passive partner?’

‘You asked me how I wanted to touch you,’ he said. ‘Not how I’d like you to touch me.’

‘What makes you think I want to touch you?’ she asked.

‘I don’t. I merely hope that you do.’

She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. ‘Did you enjoy me looking at you?’

He looked at her mouth. ‘I enjoy the way you look at me. Especially now.’

‘How do I look at you?’

He thought about it. ‘As if you want to tie me up and make me beg for your attention.’

Sue pouted. ‘Hmm. That sounds like a lot of work.’

‘Probably less than your thing with the leather cat suit.’

‘I don’t have a leather cat suit,’ Sue said.

‘Shame.’

She finished her wine. ‘Do you have ropes?’

‘Well, not here,’ he said.

‘Shame.’

Kent shrugged. ‘We don’t really need all that, do we?’

‘What did you have in mind?’

He reached across the table to touch the back of her hand with his fingertips. ‘Do you want me to go?’ he asked.

She let the moment linger and ripen before she answered. ‘No.’

Kent waited and then smiled. ‘You’re gonna have to help me out.’

‘How so?’ she asked sweetly.

He chuckled. ‘I can’t suggest we go upstairs.’

‘Can’t you?’ she raised an eyebrow. ‘Because I might say no?’

‘Because this is your home, because it would be creepy and pushy, because I’m senior to you and have to be very careful, but most of all, because you wouldn’t like it.’ He shrugged. ‘This is your game, Sue, and your rules.’

She took a breath and released it slowly. ‘Would you like to come upstairs with me?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’d like that very much.’

***

He untied her hair.

She unbuttoned his shirt.

He unbuckled her belt.

She pulled his shirt off his shoulders.

He shrugged out of his shirt and cast it aside.

She shimmied out of her jeans and threw them onto a chair.

Kent slid down his boxers and jeans in one smooth movement.

Sue tugged off her blouse and unhooked her bra.

Kent was looking at her. At her body. Sue put her hand on her hip.

‘Are you just going to stand there?’ she asked.

‘You had a chance to stare at me,’ he said.

‘Do you like what you see?’ she asked, sitting on the bed.

‘Oh yes. Did you?’

Sue gave a small smirk. ‘I brought you up to my bedroom, didn’t I?’

‘And I’m very grateful.’

She patted the bed. ‘Lie down.’

There was a diffuse glow from the street lights that came through the curtains. It added a softer, rose hue to the room. As Sue leaned down to kiss Kent, she saw warm golden tones in his hazel eyes.

His hands spanned her back. She felt his light, delicate touch moving from the base of her spine up to her shoulder blades and then down again.

She trailed her fingers down his chest and belly, tangling them in his hair.

She felt his hands cup her ass, his thumbs caressing gently.

‘Easy,’ she murmured, sliding her hand into his crotch.

He grunted. A sound she never imagined from him.

‘Too soon,’ he muttered.

‘Never had that complaint before.’

He slid his right arm up to her back and rolled them over. Sue caught her breath as he gently pinned her down.

‘You’ll be complaining enough for both of us if I finish when you’re barely started,’ Kent said.

Sue closed her eyes as he kissed her neck. ‘Do you have a problem with finishing too quickly?’

‘I’ve had no complaints.’ He kissed the shell of her ear. ‘Is this what you want?’

‘I asked you up here,’ she said.

‘You might have changed your mind.’

She wrapped her legs around his waist.

‘I haven’t changed my mind,’ she said.

She him smile.

‘Good.’

She felt the warmth of his breath on her neck. The press of his lips on her breasts.

She pushed her fingers into his hair. She bit the shell of his ear and felt him groan softly.

‘You like that?’ she asked. Her breathing was getting faster and shallower.

He answered with a warm, full kiss.

‘You ready?’ he asked.

‘Do it.’

She arched her back. Closed her eyes. She heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper. His fingers gripped her thighs as he entered her slowly.

***

She felt him looking at her.

‘You’re awake,’ she said.

‘I fell asleep?’

She looked at him. Sleepiness softened his features, but his eyes were still interested and curious.

‘You did. It was most annoying,’ she said.

He propped himself up on his elbow. ‘Because you wanted me to leave?’

Sue tensed. ‘Do you want to leave?’

Kent looked at her. ‘No. Do you want me to leave?’

‘No. Not yet.’

 

The End

 


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